


untitled

by Tazio



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 06:13:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3477479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tazio/pseuds/Tazio





	untitled

Sergio meets Fernando when he's seventeen and his hair is long and dark. Fernando is nineteen and has a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, and he smiles at Sergio with his teeth. Something twists inside of Sergio, and he knows then that things will change. 

 

*

 

Fernando fucks like a wild animal, like he's trying to rip Sergio apart from the inside. He leaves scratches down Sergio's arms and chest and sinks his teeth into Sergio's shoulders, collarbones, throat, never apologizes. He kisses Sergio when they're done, though, and pets his hair, so Sergio forgives him. 

*

"Don't ever cut this," Fernando mumbles once when they're sprawled on a bed together, and pulls on the tips of Sergio's hair. It's a little longer, and the ends are blond now. Sergio hides his face in the crook of Fernando's neck and sighs.

 

*

 

Somewhere along the line, Sergio moves in with Fernando. Sergio tells Fernando that he loves him, and Fernando says it back. Their days pass in a hazy mess of smoke and sex and the constant anticipation of waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

 

*

 

And just when Sergio stops waiting for it to happen, it happens. It's not Sergio who finds him. He's the first one they tell, though, so he knows that it's probably bad. There are deep, dark circles under Fernando's eyes, his breath coming in quick little pants. He closes his eyes when he sees Sergio, turns his head in what could be taken for shame. Sergio takes him back home.

 

*

 

It stops seeming romantic. Fernando turns twenty-five, and ten days later, Sergio turns twenty-three. Sergio lets his hair keep growing, because Fernando asked. Sergio remembers when he was younger, when he could look at Fernando lighting another, another, another cigarette, and not feel disgusted. Sergio wonders if he's still in love. It doesn't feel like love. It feels like a sad flat on the outskirts of Madrid, a stack of moth-eaten sweaters, a mattress shoved into the corner, cocaine hidden under the sink, lines down Fernando's back that Sergio did not put there. 

 

*

 

Fernando starts leaving for days at a time. Sometimes he comes back within only a few. Other times he doesn't come back until more than a week has gone by and Sergio is considering leaving himself. A couple of things remain constant: Fernando arrives back high out of his mind. Sergio never goes. 

 

*

 

"I hate you," Sergio says to Fernando one night, when Fernando is slumped backwards against the wall, and too far gone to possibly remember anything that Sergio says to him. "You used to love me a lot. What happened to that?" He looks over at Fernando, Fernando and his blown pupils and thin arms and shaking hands and fingernails bitten red raw. "Maybe you'll tell me someday."

 

*

 

"This needs to stop, Fernando."

Fernando completely ignores Sergio. Turns back around to the counter. Opens the cabinet with a pale hand. Sergio watches him move a stack of ceramic bowls to the side gingerly, then stand on his toes to reach further back into the cabinet. 

"Shit! Did you take - ? Fuck you! Where is it?!" Fernando slams the cabinet door shut again and rounds on Sergio, spitting with anger. "I can't fucking believe you!"

"I didn't touch anything," Sergio says. "You already...did all of it. It's really too much. You need to stop. Please Nando."

"Don't tell me what to do." Snarls Fernando, shoving past Sergio into the living room. "I know that you - fuck!" He knots his hair in his hands, smacks a palm down onto the table. "I can't do this. I can't fucking do this." Fernando slams the door after him as he leaves. Sergio knows he won't come back. 

 

*

 

Iker is older than Fernando. Sergio knows it can only be a few years, but Iker seems ancient in comparison, in the way he walks and acts and swallows Sergio's moans with practiced ease. Sergio knows that there's something hurting Iker, that there's something causing the lines under his eyes and the tightness in his shoulders. He has a job, though, and an apartment. He's also the polar opposite of Fernando, organized (sometimes), clinical (usually), punctual (always), and caring (if he wants to be.) 

*

"Come stay with me," Iker says. It's a Sunday. Sergio taps his ring finger on the curb he's sitting on, and keeps his eyes on the afternoon sky. He's feeling sorry for himself again.  


"Come stay with me." Iker repeats. Sergio flicks through the list of emotions he knows, and decides Iker's voice sounds pathetic in its loneliness. He looks at Iker.

"Do you love me?"

Iker is quiet. He inhales through his mouth, and sighs the breath out loudly. His shoulders are lowered. "Yeah, Sergio."

Sergio knows Iker doesn't love him. He goes anyway.

 

*

 

Little by little, Iker reconstructs Sergio and Sergio is grateful for it. 

 

*

 

Sergio meets Fernando again, when he's thirty-one and his hair is short and styled and he's wearing a suit and he feels intelligent for the first time in his life. Fernando is thirty-three and the bruises under his eyes are gone and there are scars on his arms, but they're old. Sergio thinks distantly that seeing him like this, at this time, will hurt him more than Fernando leaving him did.

Something twists inside of Sergio, and he knows then that things will change.


End file.
